The way his plump hand clutched at her hip seemed somehow improper; not morally, aesthetically.
One always likes one's latest book best. That's a natural feeling.
You don't run out on people; you run out on yourself.
If there is no mystery, for the artist, to solve inside of his art, then there's no point in it....for me, every act of the art of solving a mystery.
Finishing a book is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it.
Good writing is rewriting.